We Are Capable of LovePurple sashes bound around wristsWe Are Capable of Love5 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
Frustrated outcasts and hateful fists
What happened to a dream of tolerance and peace?
Will that world ever exist?
But never fear! The outcast always rises
And fly their colors over all the world's skies
Rebel against the hateful Berlin Wall!
Triumphant will be the ones who still stand tall
Humans are capable of love, after all
YouYour smiles hold lipgloss, but no emotionYou6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Your eyes have mascara but no remorse
Your feet wear high heels that turn them black and blue
And the rest of you is black and blue too
Your ears hear lies you speak and you believe them
You say the words you think they want to hear
You smell the blood and don't look at your arms
You touch the mirror cause you don't believe its you
You're a product of the modern age
A symbol of self harm
A god of thin and patron saint of suicide
You worship razor blades
You are a best-seller goodbye note writer
You say 'hello' to your goodbye
You are exactly who you want to be
Happily Ever After?The End.Happily Ever After?6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The fairytale's over, the book has been dramatically
Reality comes back
The glass slipper's been shattered
Cinderella is back to sweeping floors
While Charming flirts and dances
The coach is just a pumpkin
The fairy godmother, a roaring alcoholic
The clock strikes midnight,
But she's still crying
The golden hair's been shorn
Rapunzel knew it was a mistake
To let him up
The look in his eyes confirmed
He was the same as all guys
Now he grows tired of her
And he holds secerts
And Rapunzel wishes to once again
Be locked away
The fairies have dissappeared
Sleeping Beauty, however,
Brings them back with the power
And she plays in her fantasy land all day long
Mr. Prince left months ago after she went crazy
And now she drifts back to eternal sleep
What happened to happily ever after?
The StalkerI'm watching you,The Stalker8 years ago in Other More Like This
I know where you are,
My voice seems further,
But know I'm not far...
My hands are close,
Can you feel my breathing?
I could just touch you,
As this letter you are reading,
My pounding heart,
i can just hear it beating,
Or is it just yours?
Is it shiver down your spine?
Or my ghostly finger...
Cold as snow,
But dark as the night,
I don't mean to scare you,
But I have our picture,
Close to my heart,
Enwrapped in my mind,
Know it won't be long,
Soon you'll be mine.
never met a letterhello,never met a letter6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i am growing my hair out
for you. soon the birds
will entangle themselves in it
and twist nests, nettled
with twigs, into miniature
huddles. they will squirm,
robin's eggs mirroring the
waning tides, and swallow the
you make me feel like i am
supposed to be the sun
instead of a stupid girl
with her flat hat and cat eyes.
i swath myself in
manufactured clouds, drawing
a long white face still
heavy enough to
drown a soul.
i am the ugliest clam in
printed with the illusion that
inside my mundane shell,
i hold a shellacked pearl on
my tongue. you will pry
me open at the hinges, rusted
copper breaking into shrapnel,
and see that i am
backyard astronomerWhen I saw the neighbor's namebackyard astronomer6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
in the obituary,
I thought of his telescope
looking out into the universe
on the balcony with a pen
and the almanac open
to the astronomy section.
I thought of how he did not wake up early
to watch the morning rise red,
but to see that the sun and the moon
know how to share a sky.
I thought of the apples he ate for breakfast,
how each core became that of a new sun
in his interpretation of the solar system.
("There is at least a nibble
in every celestial body out there
and the teeth marks show,
but they still exist
and they still go on").
I thought of how he always said
he was never too interested in gardening,
but that the flowers that reminded of stars were nice
because he could plant his own constellations.
so now, Orion sprawls across his lawn
with a belt of bluebells
and an azalea weapon,
the little dipper is a smoldering chain
and the weeds are the unknown spaces
He was the third person
down the line in the obituary
Goodbye, my friendI can't see where this came fromGoodbye, my friend6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
But then again I've always tried to
Keep my eyes shut
I don't want in on your plot
You say the world hates you
And use this as an excuse to hate it back
You use the cowards escape
Wearing a bloody crown and cape
You portray yourself as a martyer,
Oh pity me! Oh pity me!
Put down the sword of lies you wield
And stop using you mother as a shield
So this is the end of us, you reckon?
The tears that don't come to my eyes agree
Our paths crossed violently, now they part
View this not as an end, but as a new start
Goodbye, my friend
That's all there is
There isn't anymore
A cigar is just a cigarFreud and the penis shaped cigar clenched between his teethA cigar is just a cigar6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
stare at me from beneath everything I've ever written.
Clearly, he says, this obsession with monsters stems from
a childhood trauma. You're in love with deadly women
because your mother never loved you. You're in love with
the devil because your father never loved you. Your sexual
repression has led to isolation. Your isolation has led to
this anxious pathology.
Why darling, he says, and the cigar jumps, everyone
knows the girl you wrote into this labyrinth is you.
Once you address the source of your problems,
this unhealthy writing compulsion will cease.
So I cut my hair and left my basement for the first time
in twenty years. I took the bus to the center of the city
and spent half a lifetime in warm dens and nicotine smoke,
in bars full of women with amorphous eyes and gentle fingers,
in strip light burst my eyes light, in the back of a stranger's car
behind the abandoned earth. Like a wounded animal I touched
her face. I le
baby drilledif the sun stillbaby drilled5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
shines then the
we've been repeating
what the rain said
spray the earth's
into the bay
let them make
in the riverbed
with one hand
what the other
the night in
rundown motelMY HEART CAN NEVER BErundown motel6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
A SUITABLE HOME FOR YOU.
THE WALLS ARE SUNKEN
LIKE BROKEN SHIPS OR
THE HOLLOWS QUIVER
WITH THE BODIES OF
RATS AND INSECTS,
WAITING FOR THE FALSE SENSE
OF SECURITY PRECEDING
TO SKIRT ACROSS YOUR
BROWS BEFORE THEY
(I MISS YOU.)
MY HEART IS FILTH.
MUCK AND MIRE SEEP THROUGH
IT IS NOT YOUR HOME.
SWALLOWING YOUR SMILE,
WHERE IS OUR SUNSHINE
WHERE IS OUR BEAUTY
WHERE ARE YOU WHEN
WHERE AM I.
THE FIRE IS ROARING
LEONINE AND ALWAYS TOO,
I NEVER ASKED YOU TO GO.
(I MISS YOU.)
I WILL NEVER NOT SHAKE
WHEN I HEAR YOUR HANDS,
PLUCKING AT THE GUITAR,
WHEN I REMEMBER YOUR VOICE
ACROSS CRACKLING STATIC
OR HOW YOU CALLED AT HALF PAST
MIDNIGHT AND I KNEW YOU
WERE IN PAIN AND HOW
NOTHING FELT MORE LIKE DEATH
THAN YOUR CONFESSION TO
I WILL NEVER TELL YOU TO YOUR
SAD, TIRED EYES HOW I USED
TO WONDER IF THE STATIC OVER THE
LINE WAS REALLY THE OCEAN
LAUGHING AT THE MILES IT MADE
cameoYou would always laugh when I would mention that my profilecameo5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
would make an awful cameo necklace. My face would wrinkle
with doubt and it would make you laugh harder and you would
mock my every agitated movement like a five year old and I
couldn't escape you like I can't escape my own reflection and
you loved that.
Presently, I am washing dishes like a feminist. With my hair
untied and resentful, I pick up spoons and measuring cups and
bowls and forks all covered in food and I hate that. The remnants
of some oral delight and here I am watching the water bloat
porous foods like it's made a bad life choice.
I pick up a spatula and I think I see you through the blinds. Your
mouth unfolds into a smile as my body unfolds over the sink so
I can adjust my eyes through the plastic shutters. I tap on the
glass. You laugh at me and I tear the blinds from the top of
the window like a passionate idiot. With my feet in the sink,
I press myself against the glass with hopes of falling through.
the alarm clock paradox -colabyou stripped your sweater tothe alarm clock paradox -colab6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
show me your freckles,
and oh how i'd love to peel them off,
because you're no swan, lovely--
not with those small brown accidents
kissing your every inch of
when they should be
kissing every inch of mine.
formed a coalition
to sign a petition
to ban you from
the sky, but i
what else could i wish on?
when you're alone, you'll always
lust for the bedroom door
to lock you in forevermore,
to lock me out forevermore;
that way you're safe to be the
sweet nothing that you see--
the ghostling in the mirror.
you're still just one
of those dirty little things,
and it scares you to tears.
i promised not to be a
liar, when you
promised to make me love you
(remember how i said
i could never love you?
well, i was lying)
you should know, darling,
a liar always lies.
you should know, darling,
this is not a lie.
and you should know, darling,
there's no difference between
dishonesty and disinterest.
so just forget to remember me
NumbersNumbersNumbers7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I could not stop seeing
parallels between words
and human flesh.
A poem that could rise up,
hunching its back, a
concentration camp victim
with bare ribs; this
language rolls like the ridges
and dips of a spine, sticking
up through paper skin.
And theyre using the peaks
as an abacus, counting them
as they die.
miracle growI spent the darker daysmiracle grow5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
of my youth
and I regretted
how the land
for the weight
but the heart
by the sensory
we may dream
are a conscious
watch a monkey build a watchfor the betterwatch a monkey build a watch5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I was made this way
dropped different & drifting
some distance from divine
a tool gifted with the
breath to blame
what nature has nurtured
I can't figure out
the life of me for
the life of me
or at least no
(with no conception)
of immaculate design
of the miraculous
the impetus of this
all I'm getting
we're all given
Twisted.I want to hate you,Twisted.5 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
But underneath the tears I have cried,
I still love you.
All Is NumbMy fate's been mistakenly chosen.All Is Numb5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Pallid, I place my feet on the ground.
No balance, I buckle, without a sound.
Resting In Pity, on the cool floor,
unsure if it is worth it anymore.
Dead circuitry that drives no power,
synapses shut down as thoughts devour.
I'll stay numb until the guilt is gone
and bloodstain on my hand is faded
It beads up, beckoning and glistening.
Sanity stops and to the urge I start listening.
Like an old television that's stuck on one channel,
the fuzzy static has me fixated to dismantle
white noise white lies without waking
the sheltered souls who don't know I'm breaking.
Here is the silent suffering
Lost within layers of unending emotion,
how to nullify I haven't the slightest notion.
Pending, pending, the process won't override,
the data indestructible and access denied.
Plexiglas pain you strike but can't shatter,
pounding at prisons until your fists splatter
bleak blood and breathless you buckle again,
depleted, desolate, ideas inhumane.
I Am- DeconstructedI am the girl with rotten granny smith apple eyes, the girl with hair like rusty copper rods, and with lungs that just can't seem to hold air.I Am- Deconstructed5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I wonder who I am and where I'm going; if this path of stale bread crumbs through thickets and brambles in this darkest of forests truly has a light at the end.
I hear the wheezewheezewheeze of a struggling respirator, the shaky inhale of a last breath, and the final mourning cry of a heart monitor.
I see a piece of art. A canvas stretched across aching hipbones with drastic strokes of a razorblade's edge, dappled with pin presses, and stained with an epistle no one can seem to read.
I want to fly. For my shoulder blades to break free of their fleshy cages and spread wide. To scoop out my marrow, for my body to become streamline, light.
I am the daughter who-
Pretends that every cloud still has a silver lining, that falling stars are worth wishing on, and that four-leafed clovers are hiding among the ordinary in her backyard.
Feels like e
A Child's HeartA child's heart is full of these:A Child's Heart3 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
Soothing words upon scraped knees,
Pats on the head and amused laughs,
A father's treats, paper crafts,
Mommy's food and Sissy's dolls,
The chills as night falls;
Fantastic tales of countless heroes,
Sweaters that Auntie sews.
Words of rebuke and of love,
And dreams of flying up above
Butterfly RibsYou had a butterfly ribcage,Butterfly Ribs4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Standing out, proud and lost.
So I painted you;
Crimson and gold,
Bright and black.
With filigree spreading,
Over battered lungs.
I pulled at each,
Bone and acrylic,
And paper soft skin.
With each little tear,
I ripped from within,
The fluttering wings,
Once trapped in your cage.
So the song bird sings,
All crimson and gold, bright and black.
Mocking each and every one, Of your sins.